Tell It Like You Still Believe
by Snowfire11
Summary: Clara is the new governess at the Williams household in Victorian London. With the position she befriends the widowed Rory Williams and his two kids, the amusing staff, and the mysterious Doctor Smith who lives upstairs, a madman who believes he is a time travelling alien. He's strange and Clara has never been good at resisting her curiosity 11/Clara Amy/Rory and one-sided Amy/11
1. The New Governess

**Hello again, I haven't been here in forever, I am here with my first Doctor Who fanfiction ever, which I fell in love with throughout the year. This idea had hit me shortly after I had seen the Christmas special, where I felt my heart break for the Doctor. He was in such pain at the loss of the Ponds, and I am so sad to see them go, but I am excited for Clara and I am interested to see the effect that she will have on the Doctor. c:**

**So here is the story, not my best but I had a blast writing it. Please review, any constructive feedback would be much appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I am not the BBC, if I was, I wouldn't be here. I'm just borrowing characters and making them hurt as much as I do. **

**Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

The letter took her by surprise; she had honestly not been expecting a response back.

She stared at the paper in her hands; tiny fingers clutched the words scribbled in dark ink as she read over them again, for what felt like the hundredth time.

'_Hello, _

_I am writing you this in response to your request about the open position of governess in the household. I am so sorry about the lateness of this reply, but I honestly feel that a woman of your qualifications, and reputation would be wonderful for this household. I would like to schedule an appointment with you for the position of governess in the Williams household. Please, if you are free on the 14__th__ come on by to the household and meet the children. If you are busy please call and let me know so we can make another appointment. I am deeply looking forward to meeting you Ms. Oswald. _

_Rory Williams'_

Clara stared at the number and address at the bottom of the page and grinned. Looking at the clock on her wall, she spun around and swung open the door to her wardrobe, a grin splitting her face in two. She threw her best dress onto her bed; it was a deep cranberry red with just the right amount of flare and modesty, and grinning she set out the rest of her clothing.

'An offer!' She thought happily as she quickly pulled her long chocolate hair out of its nightly braid, and brushed through it before padding over to the bathroom, and began filling the white porcelain with water.

Clara was a young governess, called one of the best in all of London by half of the city's influential families. The children always adored her. She was kind and brilliantly fun, but was strict when necessary and taught the children the best material. She was polished and poised like silver around the masters of the house, and was always befriending to the servants and never ever overstepped her bounds or slacked off. She was one of the best in London, but she had a hard time keeping a job for long periods of time.

Somehow, despite her brilliance, she was always fired. Loved and adored, yet the masters always found her methods startling and different. Time and time again families had been assigned angry, bitter, horrible governesses that only yelled at the children and left them filled with such animosity. Clara was nothing like that and it made people feel uneasy. She was _different_, and they didn't like that, unwilling to look over the greatness that she held. They didn't like change.

So she was always let go the same way; with her things packed in the snow, and a hat placed on her head while the masters stood at the front door, and the children huddled at their feet, smothering sniffles with their sleeves.

"Clara, you are a great governess, I just don't feel like you are what is right for the children right now." The mother would always say with a sad, timid smile.

And then Clara would look up, and give them her biggest, most dazzling smile and smooth out the imaginary wrinkle on her hem and look them straight in the eye.

"I completely understand, it has been a pleasure."

Then she would be gone in the back of a carriage with nothing but the crack of a whip to announce her departure.

Clara felt the usual bitter acid of nervousness settle in her gut, and she dipped her head in the still warm water, hoping the warm waters will sooth the anxiousness. She resurfaced and let out a heavy sigh before scrubbing her silken skin and hair with soap, wiping away the dirt and grime of the bar from her skin. Working in the tavern was fine work, but shoving off the drunks was exhausting, and usually ended with her soaked to the bone in alcohol. In order to earn extra money during her bouts of unemployment, Clara would work at the inn she resided in. Angie, the owner and friend, was nice enough to pay her for her assistance. Clara really had nothing to complain about.

Slipping her somewhat damp hair into a tight bun, she darted out of the tub and slipped on her clothes. Noting the time, she finished tidying up her appearance and flew down the stairs, making sure to pick up her coat, bag and cap on her way out.

"I'm going out! I've got a job offer!" With a blown kiss off her ruby red lips she was gone, while Angie stared in shock at her retreating figure with a tiny smile on her face.

Clara hailed down the carriage, and pulled herself in with a huff. She leaned through the partition and smiled at the driver, "The William's Estate please?"

"Of course, dearie." The old gentleman cracked his whip and ushered the horses on with a smile and Clara looked out the window and watched as the London streets flew around her. The world was covered in a soft blanket of fluttering white snow, and the chilled water continued to stream down from the whipped clouds above. The thin streaks of morning peered through the curtain of gray, and cast a blinding brightness off the usually colorless world. London was beautiful in the winter, she had always thought so.

The city was waking, she could feel the roar under her skin, and watched as the children darted outside in their boots, heavy coats and long scarves, while their mothers pretended to be uninterested from the kitchen window. Inside she could sense the fathers shaving in the bathroom, preparing for the hard day's work. It was early, very early, and Clara felt as though she had been awake for hours. An exhaustion mixed with a pure energy coursed through her, filling her heart with lightness and her gut with hot air.

Another carriage trotted by, and she felt the nervousness sink in, she could hear a ticking of the clock in time with her heart. There were moments left before she would meet them, this family, these Williams'.

The carriage came to a halt and Clara looked outside the window to the tall, brilliant manner above her, towering high. It was simpler than some she had seen, but it was beautiful and charming and most importantly it looked like a _home_. A grand home, for a beautiful family.

Climbing out of the carriage, she handed the driver his money, thanking him, and turned back to the house. She straightened her hat, and took a deep breath before picking up her bags and walking into the doorway where she was met with an intricate cherry wood door. Without a second's hesitation, acting before her nerves took over, she knocked. Three times. Crisp, calm and without delay.

The 10 seconds she waited seemed to be the longest moments of her life. With a hundred different thoughts racing through her mind, Clara felt dizziness sink its cruel talons in her head, when suddenly the door swung open and a young man appeared in the doorway.

He was of average height, with short light brown hair that was as straight as a needle, it appeared soft to the touch and glittered free of snow. Ocean blue eyes looked down upon hers. Light, happy eyes, but held a sadness in the watery depths. Average light complexion, free of blemishes or wrinkles, but a rather elongated nose that was more of a flattering feature than something considered ugly. He wore modest clothes for a man who lived in a grand home like this. Dark brown trousers, a cream colored button shirt, tucked in perfectly, covered up by a matching vest. The young man gave her a look of confusion, before a wide smile broke out over his kind face.

"Clara Oswald I presume?"

"Master Williams." She said full of delight, and she bowed her head politely.

"Come in please, its freezing out there." Rory opened the door slightly, a smile tugging at his thin lips, giving the young woman enough room to enter. She stepped in and swept her eyes over the lovely foyer.

"This is a lovely home, sir." Clara said with a smile, bright and full of genuine delight.

"Thanks. My wife picked it out actually. Took one step in and just knew it was the one for us."

"Impeccable tastes." Clara added, as she took a moment to survey the high, dark ceilings, and the dark cherry wood around her. A light cream paint covered the walls, and despite the somewhat dull color, Clara felt her heart calm and the color brought a warm homelike sensation to pulse in her heart. Light tile covered the cleanly floors, and a grand staircase ascended upward to the second floor of the manor, the wall decorated with assorted paintings and photographs of varying sizes and images.

Clara smiled and whizzed around to face the master of the house. "So, where are the children?"

"They are outside… making a snowman I'm guessing." Rory said fondly.

"Ah," Clara said and shifted on her feet nervously, unsure of what to do, now that she was here in his presence. As though some kind of saving grace, she could hear the clunky footsteps of children clattering in the distance of the house and the somewhat shrill screech of a maid somewhere. Then as though of some magic, she found two young heads of ginger peering at her with glistening water blue eyes. The two children stared at her for a moment, and then when they decided she was unknown to them, spoke up.

"Dad, who is that?" A young boy called out first, gesturing to Clara.

Clara, smiling even brighter than before, leaned forward, so she was nearly eye level with the young boy. He was around 8 years old, and had light ginger curls that sat on his head like a twisted mop, and bright blue eyes of ocean water, a thin set of lips like his father and tiny freckles dotting his cheeks. He wore a thick coat, a great layer of warmth to protect him from the heavy snowfall outside.

"Hello, my name is Clara Oswin Oswald. I am a friend of your father's. What is your name, young man?"

He gave her a tiny, unsure smile. "Arthur Thomas Williams."

"Goodness," Clara beamed at the young boy, "What a name, and what a set of curls." She reached out and ruffled his head, and watched as he laughed and turned red from embarrassment, but inched closer to her when he knew she was safe to be around.

She spun on her heel slightly and reached out to the girl, who was a young age of five, huddled close to her father. She had long wavy locks of orange ginger, darker than her brothers. Her eyes were the same glittering blue, and her ivory skin made the freckles around her nose and full lips more noticeable. She was beautiful for such a young lady, but the dark ginger hair made her seem almost exotic. She wore a long dress of peach and white stockings with boots that came up to her knees. It seems on her way in she had shaken off the heavy coat she had on.

"And what is your name?" Clara asked quietly, adding mystery to the question.

"Karen Amelia Williams," She said quietly, and gave a tiny smile when Clara grinned at her.

"What a lovely name, Karen. Your hair is gorgeous, such a wonderful color of red."

"Your hair is pretty too." She whispered so softly that if Clara hadn't been close enough, she doubted she would have heard the young voice.

"Thank you very much!" Clara said, her eyes twinkling with delight. She rose up and looked up at Master Williams, who was standing very straight, and looking a bit shocked.

"Uhhh," He let his mouth hang open for a moment before pointing to the room across the hall, "Would you like to step into my office?"

Clara nodded and followed the gentleman through the corridors. As she turned a corner she felt a tiny, cold hand slip into hers. She looked down and caught sight of bright coral hair, and a twinkle of sky blue.

"Are you going to be our new Mummy?" Karen asked, her eyes not angry or betrayed, she was calm and questioning.

Clara chuckled good naturedly, a bit taken back by the question.

"Of course not, love, I'm here to see about being your governess. Why would you think I was here to replace your mum?"

"Because Mum died a few years ago." Arthur replied. Clara whipped around to see the younger boy trotting behind her, attempting to look uninterested by the conversation. "Dad misses her a lot."

"I'm sure he does," Clara added quietly, watching as Mr. Williams stood a little straighter, no doubt hearing the conversation, "But I'm here to see if I can be your governess. Have you ever had a governess before?"

Karen shook her head, ginger locks flowing around her like auburn waves. "What is that?"

"A governess?" Clara straightened her coat and smiled down at her, "A governess is like a live in tutor. I am here to help you grow up to be wonderful ladies and gentlemen. I teach academics, good manners, and anything else that I feel you need to know to be well rounded people of society."

"Sounds boring." Arthur answered truthfully, getting a chuckle from Clara.

"I promise I'm not. I'm fond of games and stories. I like to think of myself as a rather fun teacher." Clara smirked.

"You like stories," Karen called out excitedly, "So does Uncle Doctor!"

"Doctor who?" Clara's brow furrows.

Rory cut in and pushed his children gently away from his office door, prying Karen's tiny hand away from Clara. Not with force, or anger, but with a fatherly tenderness that Clara recognized. They groaned slightly, "Sorry Karen, Arthur, but me and Ms. Oswald need to talk privately for a few minutes. Boring adult stuff."

Arthur scoffed and darted off, obviously not interested in 'adult stuff.' Karen stood at the door hesitating for a moment, before Clara shooed her off gently with a wave of her hand. The girl looked at her brother's retreating shape and followed at his heel.

Clara entered the room and heard the door shut softly behind her.

"I just want you to know that you already have the job." Rory said the second the door clicked.

Clara whizzed around, "Really?"

"I have never seen anyone…click with the kids like that. Its…great! So is there anything that I need to do in order to insure that you say yes to this?"

Clara grinned, "Mister Williams I don't feel comfortable with you practically giving me the job like this, could you at least ask me a few questions so that this might resemble an interview?"

"Uh alright then," Rory asked, settling down in his office chair, gesturing awkwardly with his hand to the other seat for Clara to sit, "How long have you been a governess?"

"Pretty much since birth, my mother was a governess, so I was raised around the atmosphere. Taught all the things a governess should know since I was young."

"Okay, what sort of things do you do differently than other candidates that make you a better choice?" Rory asked casually.

"I try and make the children respect but also like me, I feel it is easier to learn something from someone that you are fond of," Clara responded calmly, putting on her best posture and collected speech, "And I also try and make the lessons interesting, by adding in stories and games to the academics. People remember stories and interactions considerably better than they would just dull facts."

And so the interviewing process went on for about another half hour, and the questions grew considerably less business related rather than the two adults getting to know each other as individuals. They talked for what felt like hours, perhaps it had been. It ended with the two of them laughing, clutching their stomachs, happy tears leaking from the corner of their eyes. Mr. Williams looked so kind and gentle when he laughed, but there was a cautious hesitation when he did so, as though he hadn't in a long time, or felt guilty when he did. Clara guessed it was because of the death of Mrs. Williams.

"You're kidding me, he honestly asked you that?" Rory asked, a smile still spread out on his face.

"Yes! It was the strangest experience of my life." Clara said with a giggle. Their laughter died down and a tiny silence surrounded them.

"Please, I'm begging you," Rory added suddenly, "accept the offer. I need a governess. The kids are growing up, growing up fast and without Amy here… I don't think that I am enough you know? These kids need some femininity in their lives. I mean besides the maids… You are just what this household needs. I believe that now. "

"Mr. Williams I am flattered to hear you say this, and I am happy to say that I do accept. You and your children seem like a dream, it would be a pleasure to work in your household." Clara said politely, her heart leaping out of her chest from happiness.

"Oh really! Oh thank God, you said yes!" Rory exclaimed with glee, a grin ripping apart his pleading furrow, "Thank you so much Ms. Oswald." And with that he walked over and took her small hands in his and clutched them with such fierceness Clara was shocked. He usually seemed so timid, and yet there was such a passion in this young man.

"It is an honor Master Williams." Clara said, removing her hand politely.

"Oh no," Rory shook his head, "I don't like that, no one calls me that around here. Call me Rory."

"Isn't that a bit unprofessional?" Clara asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

"We were never one for formalities." Mr. Williams said, and his smile turned sad, a light igniting in the back of his light eyes, one of love, and sadness and Clara wanted to look away. She gave a small smile instead. "But you are welcome to call me whatever you like."

"Well," He said, "I'll have Jenny take you to your room, then. Don't worry about your things tonight Clara. We will get them from your residence later tomorrow. Just rest for the night, although if I may request your presence at dinner tonight?"

"It would be an honor, Master Williams."

"Excellent. See you there then."

~.~.~.~

When Clara was showed her new room, she felt her mouth drop to the floor. It was spacious and elegant, everything she could have ever wished for. There was a generously sized bed pushed into the corner, and a desk right by the window, which was covered by deep forest green curtains that would easily block the summer sun if needed. There was a vanity and a dresser all of fine wood, smelling fresh and polished. Clara blushed at the kindness Mr. Williams showed her, she was nearly a servant, a lowly person of status with little income and money to show and yet he gave her a place to stay in such a fine house, filled with the love of a home. She was stationed on the bottom floor, with the other servants, but placed near the stairs for easy access to the children if need be.

Walking over to the bed, she picked up the dark green pillow and squeezed the soft plush fabric. She had seen finer homes, filled with fancy jewels and twinkling objects in every room, but there was nothing about those homes that made her feel the level of happiness she felt here. She wasn't a part of this home, she had been here for merely a few hours and yet she was treated so kindly and her heart swelled with light. She felt needed, and adored and_ loved_…

"Ms. Clara?"

Clara turned around to see the kind face of the maid who had led her to her room, Jenny. She was a small girl, petite, rather plain looking, with a sweet heart shaped face and long brown locks pulled up into a bun. She was kind and had a gorgeous, bright smile on her face, burning in her light brown eyes.

"Yes, Ms. Jenny?"

"Dinner will be served in an hour. Do you need anything?" Jenny asked, her soft voice gently slicing through the silence.

"No thank you, Jenny. I will see you in an hour." Clara responded with a gentle smile.

Jenny nodded and turned to leave, the soft clack of her shoes hitting the floor.

Clara felt her smile fade, and she lay down on the soft bed, overcome with an unknown exhaustion. Not even bothering with the covers, she dozed off before she had even taken her second breath.

~.~.~.~

Clara opened the door to her room, hearing the clatter of the plates and gentle laughter ringing in the air, fixing her hair she walked out of the room and followed the hallway to the main foyer, where she stared at the sight in front of her. Master Williams, Karen, and Arthur all huddled together at the table. There was another woman sitting next to Jenny, somewhat older than the young woman, with dark, dark raven hair, smooth ivory skin and bright, blue-green eyes that were stunning. And there was a short, rather frumpy looking man with whitening hair and a toothy grin that was also at the table, telling a tale that had the whole table giggling like madmen.

Servants sitting at the dinner table! With the masters! It was unheard of, it was wrong… but still despite the awkward feeling it left in her gut Clara felt relieved. Obviously Master Williams was lenient on the social politics involved with something as simple as a household, and Clara smiled at that.

Taking a step closer to the kitchen, Clara caught a ghostly shadow out of the corner of her eye on the staircase. It was dark, covered in shadow and she whizzed around, but before she could investigate and make sense of the sight, it was gone. As quickly as it had come. Clara gave a defeated sigh and turned back toward the kitchen.

"Clara!" Karen called out, grabbing her attention and pulling her back to reality.

"Lovely Karen, nice to see you this evening,"

"Nice t' shmee you too!" Karen giggled through some food. Clara smiled and fought the urge to correct the behavior, but quelled the governess attitude in her, settling for a soft chuckle.

"Ah take a seat anywhere, Clara." Rory said through his napkin, and Clara turned to the empty seat next to Arthur, where a heaping plate of steaming food sat. She pointed to it cautiously.

"Is someone sitting there?"

"Oh," Jenny popped up, rushing over and grabbing the food, turning to Rory, "Do you want me to take that up to Master Smith, sir?"

Rory looked skeptical for a moment, before returning to his meal, "Yes please Jenny, it doesn't look like he'll be joining us tonight."

"I'm sorry, but who?" Clara asked as she watched Jenny depart up the stairs.

"Uncle Doctor!" Karen piped up, and Clara turned to face the young girl, "He lives with us and Daddy. He's really, really shy and stays in his room a lot of the time."

"Dad says he's not well." Arthur added.

Clara felt her mouth open slightly, but Rory smiled at her and directed his attention to the older woman and gentleman at the table. "Clara this is Madame Vastra, another maid here, and this is the wonderful Sir Strax, cook, gardener and carriage driver extraordinaire."

Clara looked to them and smiled, "Hello, I'm Clara, the new governess."

The small man looked at her and smiled widely, "Nice to meet you Madam."

Vastra eyed her cautiously for a moment with her sharp glare, before grinning. "It's nice to see a new face."

Clara smiled, "Vastra. That is a lovely name. Is it foreign if I may ask?"

"I'm Scottish," Madame Vastra said as she took a sip of her wine, "But my name itself is Swedish. Long and confusing tale for another day perhaps."

"Oh," Clara sighed softly.

"Is your room to your liking Clara?" Rory asked suddenly.

Clara faced him, wiping at her mouth, "Oh Mr. Williams it is wonderful. All I could have asked for."

"Good. I like to keep the people of this house happy, regardless of what the changing times tell me." Rory said, a determined glint burning in his eyes.

Clara didn't know what to say, so she smiled brightly and turned to her hot meal, and her heart aching with happiness. And then like that the meal continued on for what seemed like hours, small talk, stories were swapped, and in that moment they were a happy little family. Strax, Jenny and Vastra seemed like lovely people, who were fond enough of Clara. Strax was charming with his kooky kind of energy and humor, while Jenny was sweet and gentle, but a bit fiery, and Vastra was confident and powerful, but kind.

"Well Goodnight, Clara." Jenny called out, patting the young girls hand in an affectionate gesture that was almost motherly, Vastra gave her a small silent smile and followed after Jenny to their room. Right… they were together…

"Goodnight Strax," Rory called out, pulling up a drowsy Karen up from her seat, settling her in his arms, carrying her off bridal style, while Arthur stood behind him, desperately fighting sleep. It was no doubt past their bedtimes. "Goodnight Clara."

"Goodnight Master Williams, Arthur! And goodnight Strax, sir!" Clara called.

"Goodnight Clara," Strax said kindly and turned on his heel to the kitchens, to clean up.

Clara realized she was alone.

Clara turned to go to her room, but an adventurous curiosity burned in her veins. She wanted to go exploring the manor; she hadn't seen all of the house yet which means if she went wandering no doubt she would get lost. She knew that wouldn't be fun, and more than likely horrifyingly embarrassing. Heading back to her room, she saw something glitter in the staircase, turning around she caught sight of the golden picture frames hanging majestically on the wall. Seeing no harm in observing something close to her room, Clara ascended the staircase, making sure to keep her footsteps soft. The stairs didn't creak, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Looking at the first picture it was one of a young woman, long locks falling in her face, as she laughed at something behind the camera. She was sitting on what appeared to be a grassy hill, but the black and white photograph offered no collection of the beauty that sight must have held. She was smiling madly, and there was a set of round reading glasses perched on her nose and a book in hand. She was beautiful…

She raised another step, "She's beautiful isn't she?"

Clara jumped, and turned to face Jenny.

"Oh my god!" Clara wheezed out quietly, Jenny smiled but looked apologetic.

"Sorry Clara, I had to give some night clothes to you, and you weren't in your room. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay Jenny," Clara said with amusement but turned back to the photo, "Who is she?"

"It's hard to tell here, but that is Karen and Arthur's mother." Jenny said quietly.

"That is Mrs. Amy Williams?" Clara asked with awe, now that she returned to the photo, she could see the pale skin and fiery red hair leaking through into the photo. "She's gorgeous."

"Was. She died a few years ago, and she was so wonderful. We all miss her dearly."

Clara turned back to the photo for a moment, and stared long and hard at it, going up and finding one of the William's wedding day. She was dressed in a lacey gown and her hair was pulled up into a loose bun, and she looked stunning and happy and _alive_. And there was Master Williams, grinning like a fool and looking so young and—

"What happened to her?" Clara asked, turning around to ask Jenny but spoke to silence. There was no one there, and Clara felt defeated and alone, and she took a step off of the stairs back to her bedroom—

"She died."

Clara stood frozen for a moment; that was a new voice, more hoarse and dry, as if unused and very male. She turned slowly back to the stairs where a dark figure stood, covered in shadow. He wasn't shaped like Rory was; he was a bit taller, and thinner in the shoulders and waist. The dark silhouette of his hair stood up on end and fell into the mysterious strangers eyes. He stood there for a moment, but when Clara didn't speak he came out into the light.

He was wearing normal dark brown trousers and a light cream night shirt, tucked in and wrinkled beyond belief; he stood barefoot on the cold wood. His face was rather rectangular shaped, with a somewhat large chin and dark messy hair that had overgrown and fell limp into his eyes. His thin lips were turned down into a tight frown and his deep, mossy green eyes looked at her from a distance. They were beautiful and so sad and cold and seemed so _old_. But he wasn't old. Not much older than herself, and more than likely around Master's age. He was handsome, but the harsh set of his jaw made Clara shrink away, the anger and hurt in his eyes left her with the feeling of needing to run. She held her ground though. Who was this man?

"Taken away by the angels in the night." The mystery man said with hollowness in his voice.

"What was she like?" Clara asked without thinking, hoping this stranger would keep answering her questions.

"She was wonderful. Our mad, impossible Amelia Pond…" And then he trailed off fondly, and Clara felt awkward standing there, and let him have his moment for a second, before cutting in.

"I'm Clara. The new governess." She extended out her hand; he stared at it for a moment, as though it was foreign to him.

"I'm the Doctor. Best friend of Rory." He said quietly, his voice less harsh than before.

"Oh you must be 'Uncle Doctor' as Karen calls you. Nice to meet you Master Smith." Clara says, withdrawing her hand and placing it behind her back.

His face scrunched up at the title, and a false smile tugged at his mouth, obvious in his distaste, Clara felt worry burry in her gut. _'What have I said wrong?'_

"Yes," He responded, "Nice to meet you as well Ms. Oswald, Jenny told me good things about you. Welcome to the house. Now, goodnight." And then like that he retreated back upstairs, into the first room on the right, the door closing with considerable noise. He had left as mysteriously as he had come, with only the heat of his breath and the sound of his voice lingering in the dry winter air.

Deeply puzzled, Clara descended down the stairs, and settled back into her room, finding the sleeping gown on her bed. Changing into it, she braided her hair quickly and crawled into the bed, sleep tugging at her brain. As drowsiness lulled her and she thought back to what Arthur had said,

"_He's not well."_


	2. Lessons and Fish

**AU: So excited to post this chapter. And just in time for my birthday tomorrow too! 15 years old guys, I am so old. c;**

**Well I really enjoyed writing this and I am so excited for the new events that are coming up, don't worry, the next chapter is going to have a bit more action I guess. I am so looking forward to writing it. Sorry if the chapter isn't as well edited as some others, I got impatient. **

**Well, here it is. Please read and review and let me know your thoughts. Love you all and thank you for your support. :)**

* * *

Clara opened her eyes; dark chocolate irises absorbed the light like a sponge, pupils dilating in the slight brightness of the room. Dust circled around in the tiny rays of white light that peeked through the dark green curtains. Clara sat up, relishing in the silence of the house, and stretched out, easing the drowsiness from her limbs. She pulled her hair out of its loose bun and ran through the chestnut waves with her fingers, making sure it was presentable enough for breakfast. Pulling herself from the sheets was a difficult task the longing for sleep tugged at her, but she set her bare feet on the hard wood floor, wincing when her toes touched the cold. Clara stood up and dressed quickly, slipping out of her dressing gown and into her dark grey and green governess dress. It was long, and crisp, with dark buttons emblazing the breast and long curving streaks of green that accentuated her tiny waist. Pulling on some flat black boots, she smiled in the mirror and tied her hair up, into a tight bun and plucked at her cheeks and lips to bring back the color she had lost during her long night with sleep.

Fixing her bed took no time at all, and with a satisfied huff, Clara was out the door, shutting the wood behind her. She walked confidently throughout the halls, up the stairs to the children's room where they slumbered silently. It had been a week since Clara moved into the William's household, and in that time she had time to wander around the property and knew every nook and cranny of the house like the back of her hand. She took pride in her knowledge of the house and its occupants. She felt comfortable in this house, and with permission from Master Williams, felt well enough for the children to begin their lessons. She was excited and nervous, and just as unprepared as they were. She looked across the hall to _that_ room. The only room in the house she knew nothing about… that Doctor's room. He was no doubt sleeping. That mysterious man—

Clara shook her head and smiled, turning her attention back to the children. Reaching forward for the door, she turned the knob silently and stepped in. She watched their slumbering faces for a moment. They were gorgeous. Ginger locks covered their faces messily, with their blankets strewn across in the darkness, sock covered feet poking out over their beds. She crossed the room silently before pulling open the curtains with a gentle snap. She heard their protesting groans and grinned like every governess does in the wee hours of the morning.

"Good morning sunshines!" Clara said merrily, her soft voice like a song, "_Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. _Do you know which German philosopher said those words?"

Arthur and Karen opened their bright little ocean eyes and stared at Clara like she was mad, before climbing out of bed with a groggy expression that she took with satisfaction.

"No," Arthur answered truthfully as he walked up and hugged her around the waist, "but good morning Clara."

"Uh-uh." She shook a finger at him with a smirk, "Today officially begins your tutoring. So from now until 6 o'clock tonight I will be Ms. Oswald, alright sir?"

He pouted but nodded and began making his bed. Karen still lay in bed, her curls spread out over the white sheets, looking like orange zest on a boring napkin. Clara glided over to her and sat on the empty space on the bed, running a hand through her curls.

"Do you know who said that Karen dear?"

The little girl shook her head. "No." And her words were quiet and tired and Clara felt her heart lurch with sadness, but her duty had to be done.

"It was Arthur Schopenhauer. A German philosopher." Clara added, before lightly pulling Karen up to a sitting position, easing her body up close to hers.

"What is a philosopher?" Karen asked.

"A person who sees the world in a different way, and are great thinkers with sharp minds, philosophers are rare people, Karen." Clara answered as she placed the girl on her feet, rubbing at her back to get her to start on her bed. She saw that Arthur was already pulling off his shirt, and she took that as her excuse to leave and get the kitchen ready.

"I'm going to help your father with breakfast now. I want you downstairs in 5 minutes, dressed and awake. Okay then?" Clara asked as she hovered by the door, looking over at her bright little angels.

They turned over and nodded with smiles and she turned away, calling over her shoulder, "And don't make me have to come up here and get you. I give vicious tickles as punishment, and I assure you it is not as fun as it sounds. "

Clara winked and was gone, not even her boots making sound on the wooden floor. She glanced up at that mysterious door one last time, and took off, walking through the floor with a grace and speed that amazed even herself. She was excited and beaming and today couldn't get better.

She saw Rory sitting at the table, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. She stopped at the table and curtsied politely, "Good morning Master Williams."

He turned around and smiled brightly, light dancing in his eyes. "Good morning Clara."

"The kids are up and getting ready sir. They should be down soon."

Rory looks up at her with shock. "It took you that long? They are actually awake and alive, not walking dead creatures?"

Clara smiled with a sense of satisfaction, blushing and looking down at her coffee in modesty. "They weren't a trouble at all to get up, they acted perfectly."

"No whining?" Rory asked again.

"Nope." Clara said with a smile.

Rory grinned, "What did you do to them?"

Clara laughed and shrugged, "A governess never reveals her secret Mr. Williams."

And then with that Rory shook his head and looked back to his paper, a hardened smile evident on his lips. Clara mentally shook herself_, the flirting_. She needs to stop with the flirting! It's not her fault… its programmed in her personality, but she always felt horrible when Master Rory got that look. That detached look, she knew he was thinking of Amy… when he felt guilty for being flirtatious and happy.

Clara nibbled at her breakfast, a bit of buttered toast, a bowl of fruit and a steaming cup of green tea. She was never hungry in the mornings, and then her head rose at the sound of footsteps at the stairs.

"Good morning, father." Two voices called out politely from the foot of the table. Arthur and Karen stood there, their ginger hair combed and presentable clothed simple garments, with warm boots covering their cold feet. Clara smiled and nodded at them to sit. They took their respective places at the table next to their father.

"Morning, Karen, Arthur. What are you two planning on doing today?" Rory said as he set down the paper, giving his undivided attention to his kids, making Clara melt with happiness.

"Whatever Ms. Oswald is going to do with us today!" Karen called out cheerily, as she unfolded her napkin with tiny fingers.

"Can we go outside to study?" Arthur asked, and Clara looked out at the window at the soft flakes of snow that was streaming down from the pale heavens.

"In the snow?" Clara called out with a chuckle, "If you will pay attention… then that is fine with me."

Arthur gave a quiet whoop of triumph and gulped down some of his orange juice. Clara turned to Rory, "Your children are insane, sir." She said with a grin and he smiled back at her.

"They sure are." Rory said as he looked at both of his children with loving eyes. His smile was wide, and his eyes burned with adoration for the two youths that sat on either side of him. They were beautiful and they were his and they made him so happy. Even though they reminded him of Amy, they were so special to him, and he couldn't bear to think of how dull his life would be without them.

The breakfast was quiet for a moment before Clara heard the familiar clack of maid shoes, and she looked up to find Jenny, carrying a large pile of clothes in her small arms. She caught sight of the dining family and she smiled, "Ah, good morning Master Williams! Clara, Karen, Arthur how are you all doing this morning?"

"Great Jenny!" Arthur answered with a toothy grin, "Clara is going to start our lessons today!"

Jenny smiled widely at the boy, "Really? Well, the best luck to you then Ms. Oswald."

"Thank you Jenny," Clara said with a smile and a friendly wink, before the woman went up to put the children's clothes away.

When the meal had finished, Clara stood up and led the children up the stairs, with a ghostly hand the small of their back, "Now, go get your coats on, if you want to go outside. Bundle up well, its freezing cold outside. Let me get some things from the library for the lesson. Meet me outside?"

They looked up with her with their oceany eyes and gave each other a look of pure happiness before they darted up the last few steps to their room, leaving Clara behind with a giggle bubbling up in her chest. She walked a few steps toward the library, where she had set aside some books, pencils, coloring utensils, charcoal and empty notepads filled with paper. She smiled and darted back down, where she looked outside the glass door and saw the children giggling outside, with snowy white flakes in their hair. She pulled on her coat that hung on the rack by the door and felt her heart fill with happiness. She took a deep breath and a long stride out the door.

~.~.~.~

Upstairs, a man pulled open his curtains and peered outside through the icy glass. He looked into the snowy backyard where a barren oak sat, and a tiny pond had frozen over. Two orange haired children sat on the concrete barrier of the pond, their heads in their hands, while a young chestnut haired woman paced between them, the hem of her dark grey dress a deep black with moisture. The kids looked up at her with a look of half-interest and he could see in their eyes the longing for the fluffy white beneath their feet. The woman danced around them excitedly, her olive skin glowing and her hot lips red with blood. She was smiling and the children were not. He sighed, and turned away, just as the wind outside rattled the glass, and the curtains fluttered back to their original position.

~.~.~.~

Clara sat in defeat when the children rushed from the study to the kitchen. Her lesson had not gone as smoothly as she had planned. Earlier, a bitter cold had set in and Clara was forced to move the kids inside for their health, but the move affected their brain, turning their normally attentive minds away, to the far reaches of the imagination. They became distracted and irritable, lashing out, blatantly ignoring her for the intriguing adventures outside of the library. She tried bringing them back to their lessons with basic math and science but they slithered away. They had grown bored even while they were outside in the chilly air, which kept drowsiness at bay. She didn't blame them, learning wasn't always fun... and distractions were always around the corner.

Still though, no other children gave her this many issues. They were stubborn and clever and she hated that fact. Packing away their doodles, and half accomplished notes Clara felt her heart sag. They hated her as a teacher. She was boring. Clara was never boring… but here they were living proof. She threw her books and papers into a small basket and set it on the children's desks. There was no point in calling them up after dinner, they wouldn't listen now. Not on a full belly. She sighed and straightened out the hem of her dress. Something was wrong. _She_ had to be doing something wrong, she thought as she made her way to the Master's study. She reached the hard wood door and she wrapped her knuckles against it, "Master Williams?"

"Yes. Come in." She heard the faint reply in the back of the study; she nodded and turned the handle, letting herself in modestly. "Ah Clara, we missed you at dinner."

Clara bowed politely and smiled sadly, "Yes, I'm sorry sir, I was rather tired."

"So," Rory asked as he settled down in his chair, ushering for the young governess to follow suit, "How did the lessons go?"

Clara turned scarlet with shame and shook her head, her voice weak from within her chest, "Not as I had planned sir. They were constantly bored. They didn't pay attention to anything that I had to say! It's horrible. What am I doing wrong?"

"Clara," Rory said sternly, "You are doing nothing wrong. It takes a while for you to get adjusted to how the kids act, don't stress. You are doing wonderful even if you don't think so."

Clara looked up and blushed, wringing her hands together at the praise, "Oh, well thank you Mr. Williams…"

"Have some faith in yourself Clara, it's a small setback, give it time." Rory said with a wide smile that Clara returned.

"Thank you sir, I'll leave you to your work then." Clara said as she walked slowly out of the door, when Rory called her, she turned around to look at the man by his desk.

"I am hoping you will join us for dinner tomorrow night, Clara."

"Of course sir, I wouldn't miss it for the world. Goodnight, sir." Clara said and exited the room, the wood behind her shutting with a satisfied clack. She turned on her heel and walked around the hallway for a moment, noting the time on the hanging clock, it was 10 o'clock. The house was winding down, the servants went to their rooms, and the Master's light flickered and shut off. Clara crossed the hardwood floor silently, pulling her hair out of its bun and brushing through it with her fingers. She hummed softly to herself and began daydreaming about tomorrow's lesson.

"Your teaching was nearly painful to watch today."

Clara screeched quietly and whizzed around to find a familiar man at the staircase. Doctor Smith stood at the top of the stairs like the last time she had seen him a week ago. His hair was still frazzled, but he was now wearing a dark black silk robe over his long night shirt and trousers. He kept his hands in his pockets and his body hunched slightly, his head lowered and his voice as horse as before.

"Oh Master Smith," Clara said with a wheeze, "you scared me. Again. Do you only hang around the staircase or do you terrify the other staff in other places of the house?"

He took a step forward, "Do you always teach so horribly?"

Clara stood her ground, "Are you always so rude to people you just met?"

He stood still for a moment, before straightening and taking another few steps forward, he was almost at ground level now. Clara moved a few steps closer, reveling in her closeness with this mysterious man she had hardly heard of.

"No, not usually. I'm not being rude by the way, I am being truthful," John said with a straight face. Clara felt cheated that she got no facial expressions from the man.

"How did you even see me teaching?" Clara asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"They were bored out of their minds." He changed the subject flawlessly, she noted.

"Will you ever answer my questions?" Clara called out with an exasperated sigh.

"Probably not."

"What a shame." Clara quipped.

John shifted on his feet again, and looked down at his bare feet. The slight movement made his hair fall into his eyes and Clara watched with curiosity at this secretive man stood in front of her. She didn't know what to think about him yet…

"The kids will pay attention to you if you tell them a lot of stories. They love stories." He said suddenly.

Clara looked up at him and took another step toward the staircase. She saw the man straighten slightly, going stiff at the shrinking space apart. She took a step back and watched as he relaxed, and rubbed at his hair.

"What kind of stories should I tell them?" Clara asked, interested by the new information.

The young man shrugged his shoulders and looked around the small foyer, his eyes lingering on the photographs as though looking at them for the first time in a long while, "I don't know. Just make it up, be creative! "

He waved his arms a lot when he talked, she noticed. She let her eyes wander over his figure for a moment, a crease forming at her brows.

"Why are you telling me this?" Clara asked suddenly, her full mouth open wide in awe and confusion and wonder at this man who stood before her, his baggy clothes hanging off of him and his floppy hair in his eyes. Why did she believe _him_? This madman who seemed more like a 5 year old than a grown man!

"I don't like seeing the kids suffer," John held her gaze for a moment, before the dark forests turned back down to his shoes, hardness in their depths, "And believe me your lessons made them suffer."

"I can't decide if that was sweet or if I should be insulted." Clara called out, laughter in her chocolate eyes.

"And you will continue to ponder the meaning of that, Ms. Oswald." He said with a cheeky grin, as the young man spun on his heel and ascended the stairs with a graceful speed.

"Where are you going?" Clara exclaimed. "I still don't understand! What do you mean 'tell them stories?' What do I tell in order to keep it relevant to what we are learning?"

"Anything Ms. Oswald. They don't even have to be relevant, just something to keep their interest." The man called over the railing to the young governess, his eyes alight with a fire of what she guessed was happiness. She took a few steps up to follow him, her hands grasping the handrail with a firm grip.

"You have answered none of my questions! Come down here please, Mr. Smith!" Clara cried.

"Sorry," He called down again, inching toward his room, "The recluse must stay reclusive. Goodnight!"

With another flourish of the dark robe around his waist, the man was gone, a click of the door echoing in the back of Clara's mind. She huffed and descended the stairs, looking up at that damned door, closed and dark and the only separation between him and her. She wanted to barge in. Demand his assistance, but she knew better. She didn't know him… it would be foolish and rude to do such a thing, but still she felt an itch tug under her skin. She shook her head and walked back to her room.

He was insufferable, and obnoxiously mysterious, Clara decided, and she wanted nothing to do with him and his mossy green eyes and floppy hair. Absolutely nothing to do with the bloody recluse that spent all his time holed up in his room, wasting away doing whatever the madman did.

She had work to do, and she climbed into bed, her mind racing to find the stories for the children.

~.~.~.~

She recognized the timid knocking at her door. Every governess did.

It was the sound of restless children, and she snapped her eyes open at the quiet sound. She could hear the shuffle of baby feet outside her door, and grabbing her midnight blue robe off the chair she tied it around her sloppily. She padded over to the door and swung it open.

There Karen stood, tears streaking her cheeks, a teddy bear in her arms and her hair a glittering mess on her head.

Clara gave a calming smile, and knelt down on her knees to be eye level with the crying girl. She felt her governess experience take over and she tucked a stray strand of the hair behind the little ear.

"What's wrong, Karen?" She whispered softly, her voice a gentle whisper that tickled at the air around them.

The girl babbled quietly for a moment, "I had a scary dream," she trailed off.

Clara pulled her close to her chest and rubbed at her hair, shushing her quietly. "It was only a dream," She said with a gentle smile, "But they are scary, I know. Come on let's get you up to bed."

The young woman guided the young girl up the stairs with her large hand in her smaller, paler one, fingers gripped tight against each other. She pushed the door open to the children's room, and waited for the girl to hop up on her bed, and she covered the young ginger up with her still warm blankets. She heard Arthur stir on the bed across the room, and he grumbled, "What's wrong, Kaz?"

The girl piqued up at the loving nickname, "I had a bad dream."

The brother sighed and slipped out of bed, draping his blanket over his shoulder with care, and settled in his little sisters bed.

"Why didn't you wake me? You didn't have to disturb Ms. Clara." The younger boy scolded gently. The girl's curls even seemed to droop with shame.

"She didn't disturb me, Arthur dear, this is my job. " Clara said with a warm grin, bright enough with love to light the darkened bedroom, "Now what can I do to help you go to sleep?"

"Daddy always told us a story when we had bad dreams." Arthur said quietly, rubbing out the drowsiness in his eyes.

"One story coming up!" Clara whispered excitedly, and patted at the boys shoulder to send him back to his bed, where he cuddled under the blankets with a burning impatience, Karen looked up at her with blue eyes that still glittered in the dark.

"What was your dream about Karen?" Clara asked quietly, her voice flat.

The girl gulped, "The snow melted and it was all water, and I couldn't swim…"

Clara frowned and grabbed the girl's hand, racking her brain for a clever story to reassure the young girl. She thought of the fish pond outside and the layer of ice that covered it, and the ocean off the coast and the water in the glass by the girls bed—

And then Clara grinned.

"Do you know that I invented fish?"

The two of them looked at her with a mixed expression of amusement and utter disbelief. Clara threw her head back and laughed, sweet and loud and true.

"What?" She said with a grin, "You don't believe me?"

"No! You didn't make the fish! They were already there!" Karen screeched with glee.

"How do you know I didn't make them before you were born?" Clara said with another mysterious smile.

"I was swimming outside one day on the beach with my parents and they fell asleep while I was still in the water. I had drifted out too far for them to hear me. I thought I was going to drown, and so I went under the water to look for something to keep myself up with. I closed my eyes and I wished." Clara said, hoping she was keeping the fake confidence in her voice, "and when I opened them, there was a fish! It stared at me with its big eyes and then, all of a sudden it kissed me!"

Karen squealed with laughter and Arthur looked at her slightly disgusted.

"On the _lips_?" He cried.

Clara nodded. "And I tried to get away. Because a fish was kissing me! How disgusting it was but when the fish pulled away I could breathe! Fish have gills which take in water, but humans don't so the fish are able to breathe under the water. The fish saved my life and it swam with me back all the way to shore, kissing me when I needed it. So after I reached to sand I was safe, and I travelled to all the bodies of water in the world, and I gave them fish. That way no one ever has to ever swim alone again."

Clara finished her story with a smile, and looked at the children, who were grinning back at her. Outside the door, she swore she heard a chuckle coming from the abandoned hall. It was ringing like a bell, but quiet and hoarse, unused. She whipped her head around, but saw no shadow from outside the closed door.

She turned around and sat up from Karen's bed, running a hand through her hair, "Don't be afraid of the water, love."

Karen smiled up at her with sleepy eyes, and murmured a quiet goodnight. Clara backed away and walked over to Arthur, pulling the blankets up higher on his body. She looked him straight in the eye and she felt her expression grow serious, "Arthur."

The boy looked up at her with his bright blue eyes, which glowed like powder blue neon in the darkness. "Yes Clara?"

"Don't ever feel like you are a bother to me. If you have a bad dream, wake me up. If you feel sick, let me know. I want you to feel comfortable with me here, and I want to help your father out. You are family to me Arthur, and I hope that someday you will see me as the same." Clara said, her eyes flicking over the young man who was now under her care, and the love in her heart.

Arthur stared up at her for a moment before darting forward and wrapping his long thin arms around her waist, "Thank you Ms. Clara. Sleep well."

Clara smiled, and felt her eyes burn with hot tears. Her chuckled bubbled up in her throat wetly, "Thank you Arthur, goodnight."

After the two children were tucked in bed, Clara exited the room and wiped a stray tear from her eye, painted fingers holding the tear like a treasure before it slid off and onto the floor. Clara smiled and began her decent down the stairs where she leaned over the edge of the railing, peering to find the man she had a feeling would be here.

"Master Smith!" She whispered harshly, her voice echoing softly through the otherwise silent house.

She called his name a few more times, and when she reached the door to her room she realized that she was indeed alone. He had not come down to speak with her, praise her for the attempt…

And for some reason Clara felt a bit empty. There was a gnawing in her gut that wasn't hunger…

As Clara laid down for bed at 2 am in the morning and she realized that she felt guilty. She hadn't been able to tell Master Smith that she was grateful for his help. And because of that she tossed and turned, unsure if she should knock on his door, but just when she was going to get out of bed, sleep pushed her back and she sank into the darkness.

~.~.~.~


End file.
